


Not With A Bang (Maybe A Whisper)

by AndreaLyn



Category: The Losers (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-14 18:00:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7184336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaLyn/pseuds/AndreaLyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It doesn't take Aisha long to realize Cougar and Jensen are sleeping together, but the rest of the Losers know better -- after all, they never hear a peep and Jake Jensen shutting up is physically impossible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not With A Bang (Maybe A Whisper)

It takes Aisha thirty-five hours to make a comment.

Her eyes skim over where Cougar and Jensen are holed up in the corner, Cougar poking at the screen over Jensen’s shoulder while Jensen continuously smacks his fingers away. Cougar doesn’t say a word and Jensen doesn’t stop, but their shared personal space is the equal of one person’s and it doesn’t take a psychic to understand what’s happening.

“Relaxed rules you’ve got,” she notes wryly to Clay.

The man glances up from where they’re looking over her re-entry plan. “What the hell are you talking about?”

She nods towards Cougar and Jensen with her chin. “They’re fucking.”

What Aisha doesn’t expect is the snorted laugh of disbelief from Pooch and definitely not the sympathetic eyes from Roque. 

“I _know_ what I’m talking about,” she says defensively, her hackles rising as they laugh at her. Cougar has glanced up to see what the fuss is about, but she can’t see his eyes from below the brim of his hat. She can just feel them on her, constantly watching and waiting. She steadies herself and knows she isn’t wrong. “Look, just because you’re close-minded…”

“Close-minded nothing,” Pooch interrupts her. “Look, if they were fucking, and they’re not, we’d know.”

“Jensen can’t shut up for more than two seconds,” Clay says. “You really think he’s gonna shut his mouth if he’s in bed with Cougar? I once had to break up a bar fight because Cougar had about six of the local population hot and bothered thinking they were his new best friend. Men and women. I’m pretty sure if Cougar was tapping that, the greater county would hear it.”

“We bunk practically on top of each other,” Pooch keeps going. “If my man J and Cougar were knocking boots, I’d hear every single sound.”

It’s a convincing argument.

The problem is that Aisha sees Cougar’s lips quirk upwards from the corner of her eye before Cougar’s attention drops to where Jensen is pointing at the screen in front of him, huffing on about snipers and how he’s clearly not the one with attention issues if Cougar can’t be bothered to look at a screen for more than two seconds.

No, she’s not wrong.

She just has to figure out how to prove it.

* * *

Ever since she’d been a child, she’s been the quietest one in the household. Like a cat, Aisha could move without being heard. Things are touchy since the port of LA, but they’re still making plans on how to heal Pooch and get their lives back to normal. She’s mostly wondering when she’s going to pull a trigger and get revenge for her father.

Priorities dictate that Max’s death comes first. The rest can wait.

She’s up in the middle of the night because Pooch is _not_ a very good patient and keeps making pained noises as he heals. She figures that she might as well get something to eat, sneaking into a fully dark kitchen until she sees the two dark shadows obscuring the space in front of the fridge.

Hesitating, Aisha narrows her eyes as they adjust to the dim moonlight flooding the room. 

And then it’s easy enough to make out a few very distinctive things.

Cougar’s hat, for one.

Jensen’s glasses dimly reflecting moonlight, for another.

And third, and most telling of all, is the rustle of jeans around someone’s ankles and the slap of skin on skin accompanied by heated, heavy breathing. There isn’t a sound apart from that, but words have never screamed so loud as clothing and breath and heartbeats. She covers her mouth with her hand to hide the smugness, as if that has a volume of its own. 

Slipping away without anything to eat, she lets herself into Clay’s room and kicks his mattress with the vindication of a woman who’s right. He startles awake, blearily looking around the room and groaning when he sees her. 

“If you’re gonna kill me, don’t bother to wake me up.”

“Not tonight,” she promises. 

“So this is just a friendly midnight wake up call?”

She leans in, as vindictive as ever. “I was _right_.”

Clay sighs and jams the pillow over his face. “Okay,” he gets out from behind the pillow. She leaves him alone, eager for the morning because she’s _right_ and they can all go fuck themselves.

* * *

She waits until everyone has settled into their routines in the morning before she decides to say anything. Clay is buttering toast, gripping his knife while staring at her like he isn’t sure whether he needs a weapon to defend himself. Cougar’s helped Pooch into the kitchen and is making him coffee while Jensen dances around the kitchen, ear buds in, and singing out loud to something she is _pretty_ sure is ABBA.

The dancing queen, he is not. And yet, Aisha smirks as she watches the way Cougar’s gaze slides to Jensen’s ass in those tight yoga pants (because a limited number of clothes and a forced safe house mean beggars can’t be choosers) and thinks that she’d look too.

The man might be annoying as hell, but he’s got a good body.

“So,” she begins calmly, sipping from her mug of coffee, “how was everyone’s night?”

Clay gives her a suspicious look, but says nothing.

“Too many damn nightmares,” Pooch grumbles.

Aisha turns her attention to Cougar and waits, pointedly, for a reply. Jensen dances behind him in the meantime, completely oblivious to their conversation as he slides past in his socks, only stopping when Clay leans back in his chair and presses the dull edge of a butter knife to Jensen’s chest. The ear buds come out and he glances at the tension-fraught table.

“Wha…” Jensen starts, “…aat?”

“How do you get him so quiet?” Aisha wonders. “I saw you two. If I was getting fucked like that, Canada would hear.”

“If you’re good in bed, they are loud. If you are great in bed, then they scream,” Cougar says calmly, “But if you are me? And you are very, very excellent at what you do? Then, you can make even Jake Jensen shut _la boca grande_.” With the most words he’s ever spoken to her said, he rises from the table and cups Jensen by the waist, leaning in to press a searing hot kiss to his lips that has Pooch muttering about still hallucinating and Clay sighing about the things he should know better than to assume.

Aisha just sips at her coffee and feels very, very smug about being right.

(Maybe she’s just a little jealous that she hasn’t found a man who can get her quiet like that, but there’s still time and if she plays her cards right, she can always get Cougar to offer Clay a few tips)

And if she can’t manage to get him to _give_ the tips, then she can always figure it out with a little observation.


End file.
